Chapter 11 - Federal Custody
Two federal marshals stepped forward, clicking heavy steel handcuffs around Marcus’s wrists with a sharp, metallic snap.
He was hauled toward the back of the federal transport van, his expensive coat dragging against the wet tarmac.
Eleanor watched him go, feeling a profound sense of closure wash over her soul after years of blind trust.
Caleb walked up beside her, holding out the metallic silver clutch bag she had left behind at the banquet hall.
"You dropped this again, Mrs. Vance," Caleb said with a faint, respectful smile.
Eleanor took the bag, her fingers brushing against his hand as she offered a genuine, humbled smile in return.
"Thank you, Agent Brooks. Not just for the bag, but for saving everything I built," she said softly.
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"The job's not finished yet," Caleb replied, looking toward the Manhattan skyline across the Hudson River.
"Marcus has a network of co-conspirators still sitting on your executive board."
